


you age like fine wine

by novrik



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Photographer, M/M, Model!Atsumu, Photographer!Sakusa, Shotgunning, Smoking, there isn't a real plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novrik/pseuds/novrik
Summary: it is like sakusa kiyoomi was meant to take miya atsumu's photos.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 103





	you age like fine wine

**Author's Note:**

> rushed job cause i wanted to drop this before 2100 LMFAOOOOOOOO !!!!!
> 
> cw: smoking cigarettes, shotgunning (i've. never done either i hope it's realistic)

Imagine this: you are a well known photographer across all of Japan. Your inbox is filled with shoot requests to the point your manager cannot keep up. You turn no name models into breakout stars. Older models come to you in hopes you can relight their passion, and you do. You capture them on camera in a way that leaves people gasping for breath when the prints are released. Whether it be the youthful innocence in the eyes of a name no one’s heard before or the practiced allure of high profile figures, your ability to capture the essence of the model in your photos is raved about from the packed streets of Ginza to the hick countryside of Sendai. This is what you’ve dreamed of since forever.

But you’re not a famous photographer. You’re just an intern who doesn’t even get paid. Your boss won’t even let you touch a camera when shooting. Instead, you are yelled at to go make everyone a cup of coffee and buy pastries from the bakery down the street. If you aren’t back within a time frame of fifteen minutes, your boss’ voice raises to a level of decibels you didn’t think was possible. Photoshoots last forever in which you’re running back and forth between the studio and whatever fucking lunch place you’re ordered to go to. You want to quit, but quitting would mean a failure on your part, and you cannot bear the thought of failing to go through with things. You started this, and you will finish it.

But everything sucks. Everything sucks complete ass, and you are powerless to change any of it. There’s a miserable smile on your face because God must hate you. Fuck him.

You are an insignificant speck in the universe. No matter how hard you try, your efforts fail to yield the results you wish for. Pathetic.

//

It is busy today at the studio. All the hair and makeup artists, the stylists, every one of their assistants, are running all across the set as they get together their materials and supplies for today’s shoot. Sakusa himself is checking the lenses on the cameras, setting up the computer for previewing photos. He’s only vaguely aware of the day’s agenda, a new rising model from somewhere in Hyogo, having been more concerned with getting to work on time with everyone’s orders of coffee and breakfast. He finishes all his tasks that have been delegated to him as decided by his boss, the star of the production team.

Satou Jun, currently one of Japan’s most famous photographers, is Sakusa’s insufferable boss. He knows he should probably be grateful to even have obtained an internship paid or not under such a talented man, but the only time Sakusa is ever able to hold a camera is to clean it. Speak of the devil, Satou walks onto set, claps his hands, and reminds everyone the shoot starts in half an hour.

Sakusa hasn’t been able to catch a glimpse of today’s model, but he’s about to head over to the makeup artist’s station because, rolls eyes, Satou won’t let him stand around on set. Some fuckin’ internship. Akemi, the makeup artist, has a soft, round face with a lovely smile. She’s particular about keeping her space clean and neat for the models which is one of Sakusa’s main reasons he hangs out here. There’s also the fact that she sympathizes with Sakusa over their employer.

“What’s the model like?” is Sakusa’s first question when he steps in.

“Not even a ‘hi’?” Akemi sounds accusatory, but she laughs anyway only to end with a sigh. “He’s… interesting to say the least. He’s around your age, blond, a Kansai dialect.”

Sakusa settles to lean against the doorway, casually crossing his arms across his torso. “Is he, you know, one of those diva models?”

“Oh no, he’s not like that. A little cocky, maybe a little too confident for my tastes, yet somehow he’s really attentive to the details at the same time. Dunno, maybe you’d get a better feel for him if you watched him on set,” Akemi explains as she begins to pack up some things later needed for touch ups.

“And his name?”

“Th’ name’s Miya Atsumu,” a voice purrs from behind him. “Yers?”

Kansai dialect indeed, Sakusa wonders if the guy’s even speaking Japanese. “None of your business,” he answers snippedly, and he turns to leave, taking obvious care to avoid even coming near the model.

“Akemi-chan, who’s that?” Sakusa hears Miya Atsumu ask as he makes his way down the hall. First name basis with the  _ -chan? _ Seriously?

“Jun’s intern,” Akemi’s voice drifts out. “C’mon Atsumu-kun, let’s get onto set before Jun yells at us.”

Sakusa won’t lie, the model has a handsome face. Miya Atsumu is tall, limbs long and graceful. His face is graced with the slope of a straight nose, thick and dark eyebrows, the playfulness of easy smiles. Sakusa can see why he’s on the rise as a model.

Today’s shoot is centered around the theme of something along the lines of a youthful CEO. Atsumu’s blond hair has been swept back with pomade while only base makeup sits on his skin along with filled in eyebrows. His lips are only covered in chapstick, Akemi opting to keep his natural pink. The wardrobe stylist, Nishiki, has a variety of dress shirts, slacks, and suit jackets for the shoot with the first look being a sleek, gray three piece.

Sakusa finds himself a corner to lurk in, far from the wires and bustling bodies on set. Satou snaps everyone into place, and the air changes inside the studio. Once it was filled with sounds of high strung tension and the warmth of people, but now there’s a certain chill as everyone holds their breath, flashes of the camera going off, time suspended in order to get everything just right. Sakusa is not excluded from this phenomenon. Every time a shoot starts, he can feel himself breathe in, and then the breath stays in his lungs, too afraid to exhale, for if he were to let go, the magic would be lost.

Despite Sakusa’s first impression of the model, Miya Atsumu is quite different with a camera focused on him. His face falls neutral, eyes piercing into the depths of one’s soul, something even Sakusa can see from his far away corner. He’s got the natural charm and grace of a “young CEO” so to speak; in other words, he plays up the part perfectly. Miya’s boyish youth coupled with an almost reckless confidence make for different emotions to the shoot. There’s no doubt to Miya’s rise in popularity after the release of these photos, but Sakusa suspects Miya would have eventually made it to the front pages of headlining magazines with or without Satou Jun’s help.

He’s kind of sexy, Sakusa admits, somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of his thoughts. There’s something in the way Miya loosens his tie, unbuttons his collar, the sultry look in his eyes like he’s ordering his secretary to come hither, the gleam of pearly white teeth when lips pull back. Sakusa doesn’t think he’ll be surprised once Miya Atsumu begins to grace billboards with his presence.

The shoot ends, and the magic holding everyone’s breath together is lost. Props are being taken down, people are moving off the set, wires are being bundled together, everyone is moving doing something. Sakusa disappears from his corner not in the slightest bit eager to get chewed out by Satou for just standing around.

He didn’t get the chance to hold a camera. Sakusa doesn’t know why he holds his breath, not when he has no place in the partaking of the magic. Is he an intern or is he a glorified assistant? He doesn’t know, probably will never know, and for this, he goes to sulk in his so-called intern’s office, nothing more than a shitty little empty storage closet.

“Hey, I didn’t get yer name,” Miya Atsumu’s voice comes calling out.

Sakusa stops in front of the closet door. “Did you need something, Miya-san?”

“It’s Atsumu,” the model stresses. “Wanted ta know if ya’d take sum photos fer me.”

His hand still rests on the doorknob. “Me?” He sounds incredulous to his own ears. “You want me to take your photos.”

Atsumu nods.

“I’m an intern. Satou-san doesn’t even let me touch the cameras,” Sakusa says in a rather self deprecating manner, poorly disguised through a thin smile.

The model shrugs. “Dunno, felt ya watching me during th’ shoot. Jus’ seemed like ya knew a thing or two ‘bout takin’ photos.”

In this moment, in this dimly lit corridor of the studio, Sakusa considers his options. He could: A, accept his offer and possibly lose his internship because god knows Satou hates it when Sakusa goes out of line, or B, decline the offer and suffer years of nothingness in this cramped studio. Miya Atsumu stares at him, face neutral to where Sakusa is unable to tell what he is really thinking. It’s a first for him to be unable to read someone’s expression. In this industry, or well really, as an intern, he’s learned to sift through the subtle wants on a model’s countenance. In Satou’s case, it’s not so subtle and quite obvious, but Sakusa has gotten good at predicting what the photographer will ask for.

“Alright, is there something you’re looking for?” Sakusa accepts the proposition, and the grin Atsumu gives him is something to behold, an easy hidden charm, so subtle Sakusa is almost taken aback until he remembers this is the blond’s job.

  
  


ATSUMU @tsumumiya

(1/2)

photo creds @s_kiyoomi

(A set of four photos. From the previews, you can see a figure in various poses against the fading sunset. In the first photo, Atsumu is standing with his back against a bridge, the sinking sun highlighting his body. Atsumu has his eyes closed in the second, face bathed in warm reds and oranges, the wind gently blowing through his hair. In the third, Atsumu is staring directly into the lens of the camera, eyes sparkling with amusement and lips curled into a grin. And in the last of the set, the photo is taken from a distance to emphasize the composition of the shot. The sun is reflected off the water, sky slowly sinking into a violet blue, Atsumu standing by himself, the lonesome melancholy dripping off the picture.)

|

(2/2)

(A continuation of the photos. More candids. Atsumu is blindingly gorgeous, Sakusa being able to capture all of the model’s good angles as well as bewitch him in a way that is simply ethereal and breath stealing. A talented photographer indeed.)

  
  


A surreality is what this is. Sakusa has set his phone to do-not-disturb because it wouldn’t fucking stop pinging with all the notifcations he’s getting. With Miya tweeting the photos out and tagging him, Sakusa has received an influx of new followers, either trying to get exclusive Miya Atsumu content or they’re actually appreciative of his skills. Either way, his posts are actually getting retweets and likes and shares and comments, and he thinks to himself,  _ hah, fuck you Satou Jun. _

He pretends like Miya Atsumu wasn’t a fleeting star he crossed paths with.

(“And what do ya want out of this?” “Payment.” “Sure, I can do that.”)

Is it possible to fall in love with people the day you met them?

You don’t understand. He is so heart wrenchingly beautiful you are naturally compelled towards him. The way he smiles makes you rethink every life decision you’ve previously made. You have no idea what it is, but your heart beats in an erratic pattern for him. It’s impossible to capture his essence in a still frame of a photograph, but you try anyway.

The press of his lips against Sakusa’s has him blanking. It’s reminiscent of when Sakusa is pressing halfway down on his shutter button to get the image into focus—the blur into clarity. The camera hanging around his neck makes it awkward for Atsumu to loop his arms around, so he cups Sakusa’s jaw instead, sighing deep into the kiss. Sakusa pulls Atsumu by the waist, spurred on by the little moans of content from the model.

“See ya ‘round, Omi-kun?” he asks mischievously before kissing him again, the feel of his tongue slipping through Sakusa’s lips. He never should’ve given Atsumu his name.

“Sure, I’ll see you around.”

//

You’ve been fired. You shrug and tell Satou you’re an intern, so you quit. Akemi and the others secretly wish you well. Ever since you were the one to capture Miya Atsumu, up and coming newest, hottest model, your email has flooded with job offers from multiple studios. You sift through them, deleting the shady looking ones while keeping the big name studios and some other decently respectable ones you’ve looked into. It’s kind of surreal.

Maybe God isn’t so much of a piece of shit after all.

//

These days, Sakusa is always busy. There is always a shoot, there is always an issue on set, there is always Photoshop crashing, there is always something. It’s tiring with all the shit that piles up on his desk, but Sakusa finds it infinitely more fulfilling than buying coffee and pastries. He’s currently working for BRIGHT Studios, Satou Jun’s main competitor; Sakusa finds it extremely ironic.

He is often found working late, hallways and corridors pitch black with the singular source of light coming from his office. There is so much clutter on his desk, often telltale signs of workaholics, and just him slumped over, glasses perched on his nose as he squints at the screen trying to make the last edits. The models he shoots for all high class, well known names. Some gush over him, some are straight up cunts, most are just professional, but none of them are Miya Atsumu.

Sakusa thinks about him, more often than he should. He thinks about amber gold eyes, blond hair, the smirk of lips he can still feel against his own. A tragedy, really, that he cannot kiss Atsumu again. He remembers being swept up into the impromptu photoshoot, being swept up into a number of soft kisses. Fleeting, but there is nothing Sakusa can do about it.

The last he heard of Atsumu was that the blond was overseas. Popular when they first met, a superstar after. His face is plastered on billboards, body gracing Men’s Health, eyes winking in perfume commercials, there is no end to Miya Atsumu. He’s there everywhere, for Sakusa cannot open a magazine without him in it. A shame the only place he doesn’t see Atsumu is through the camera lens.

You dream of a boy no longer yours, never yours.

//

“Lemme get one of those, Omi.”

Kiyoomi turns his head around. He’s leaning over the window, one arm over the windowsill and the other bent to hold his cigarette. Atsumu stands there, hair so pale it’s almost white. The sinking sun lights his figure on fire. The same easy smile from ten years ago graces his face. He doesn’t even have smile lines.

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi says with a fond smile, fishing the box out of his coat pocket.

He offers the box to Atsumu who takes one and sticks it in his mouth. Kiyoomi leans over and uses the end of his own to light Atsumu’s cigarette. He inhales.

“How’ve ya been?” Atsumu asks. They’re standing so close to each other.

“Lonely,” Kiyoomi answers. The model laughs.

“Sorry, Omi,” Atsumu tells him truthfully.

With his free hand, Kiyoomi gently cups Atsumu’s jaw. “It’s alright. You’re here now.” He breathes in on his cigarette and puffs out in Atsumu’s awaiting mouth.

They stay like that, lips pressed to each other’s. Kiyoomi languidly sucks on Atsumu’s tongue, hand holding his cigarette moving to circle Atsumu’s neck. The model’s arms are wrapped around his waist.

“Take a picture of me Kiyoomi.”

**Author's Note:**

> i... rly don't expect much from this one (read my 10k n 9k fic thanks) but leave a kudos and/or comment if u liked it thank u
> 
> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/rinniebear666)


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